My paternal grandparents, the true definition of "Salt of the Earth" people. "Pap" was a Chesapeake Bay waterman who came from Tangier Island in the Bay and worked very hard his entire life. "Ma" was from the mainland and was 1/4 to 1/2 Powhatan Indian. They had eight children. This picture was taken during the depression and being photographed was a rare occurrence, so they paused for a moment during their daily chores for this shot. I can't help but think of   Steinbeck's "The Grapes of Wrath" every time I see this picture. It's easy to forget just how hard it was during those times.

My maternal grandparents "Nanny and Pop-pop". They were farmers on the Eastern Shore. Only one time did Pop-pop ever ventured farther than 50 miles from the place of his birth, and that was to see my mother at the hospital in Richmond after she had been in a car accident. He was a quiet, strong individual whose word was as good as any contract. After the chores had been done in the morning, he loved to watch "Gunsmoke" on TV. He died when I was eight years old. I wish that he had lived long enough for me to know him as an adult.

Nanny on the farm. Chickens, pigs, cows, and cats were always roaming around right outside the door on the farm. It wasn't until later in her life, (and this goes for my other grandparents as well), that she actually bought things to eat at the store. I think I would have starved to death back then. I would have always grown to attached to the animals to make a meal of them, (the chickens, pigs, and cows, not the cats).